Call Me Old Fashioned
by WellThisIsANewURLInnit
Summary: Pietro gets himself in trouble with Lance, and Lance decides to handle it the good old fashioned way: With a spanking! Don't like, don't read. Illustrated oneshot for CakeHeater on DA.


"Food," Lance sighed as he shut the fridge in the broken down kitchen of the brotherhood boardinghouse. "We're out of food again and I don't get paid until Friday."

Lance walked out of the kitchen and to the hall closet, pushing coats away and stepping in front of the water heater. He felt around on top of it until he found a shoebox and pulled it away.

He scowled when he opened the shoebox and found only about ten dollars. He'd been stashing away five percent of all of his paychecks here for times just like this when they really _needed_ something! They needed food and food cost money.

He took out the ten dollars and threw the shoebox back into the closet, then slammed the closet door shut. Motherfucker! He knew Fred hadn't stolen it, he wouldn't buy anything besides food and if he'd bought food, then there would be something in the cupboards. He knew Wanda hadn't stolen it, he doubted she even wanted anything, she tended to just sulk in her room with a book. Toad, well… Toad didn't steal from anyone in the brotherhood. He usually handed over his 'earnings' to Lance as soon as he got home.

Pietro, on the other hand… Well, Pietro had come home with a brand new leather jacket. Fuck. Why didn't Lance question him about it earlier? Oh, right, Pietro had been distracting him with another new thing he'd gotten… Sweet body dust. Yet another thing to question him about.

Just that moment, his silver-haired lover walked in the door. Lance wrapped an arm around his leather covered shoulders as he sped by, dragging him back a bit.

"Hey, 'Tro. What'cha been doing today?" Lance asked nonchalantly.

Pietro looked up at Lance with a raised eyebrow. "Shopping," he said slowly, holding up a plastic bag. "Why? You're acting strange."

Lance held him a bit tighter should he try to escape once he knew he was found out. "Well, I was going to go shopping too, as a matter of fact, for food. But when I checked my stash, there was hardly anything there."

Pietro's eyes widened in an 'oh shit' expression, before he schooled his face into confusion. "Your stash? And where might that be?"

Lance glared at him. "I'm pretty sure you know where my stash is, Pietro. How much did this cost?" he asked, patting the shoulder beneath his hand. "It looks like some nice quality leather. Where did you get the money for it?"

Pietro immediately put on his puppy dog eyes, not wanting Lance to be mad at him. "Okay, you caught me, but I swear I was going to pay you back!"

Lance huffed in exasperation. "How would you do that? You can't get a job, Pietro! In case you've forgotten, the government will put you back in juvie if they know where you are! We needed that money for food! You can't _eat_ leather!"

"But you _can_ eat body dust…" Pietro purred, wrapping his arms around Lance's waist.

"That's not going to work, Pietro. I'm still mad at you."

Pietro pouted up at him. "Why? Don't you think I look good in the jacket?"

"Yes. But that's not my point! You stole money from me, money that was needed to support the people in this house! It was the only money we had and I don't get paid for four days from _either_ of my Jobs!

Pietro frowned. "What? I thought you got payed tomorrow!"

"No! My boss at the grocery store moved payday to Friday! But even if I _did_ get payed tomorrow, it wouldn't change the fact that you _stole_ from me!"

"Well what do you want me to _do_ about it?" Pietro yelled, finally fed up with this. "The deed's done, the money's spent!"

Lance frowned. Pietro had a point. But he didn't want his wayward lover thinking that stealing from him was okay, ever. It wasn't. Lance was the only one making money in this house and Magneto sure as hell wasn't helping them out, and Mystique had fucked off down to Mississippi to live with Destiny again.

"I'm… Going to punish you," Lance said slowly, as if not believing those words had left his mouth.

Pietro grimaced. "What is this, the 1950's? Nobody _punishes_ their lovers anymore, Lance. What the hell would you do, anyway? You can't ground me, I'd just sneak out our window," Pietro smirked triumphantly.

"This may not be the 1950's, but you can call me old fashioned," Lance growled. He turned Pietro in his arms a bit, wrapping his arm securely around the shorter boy's waist and slapping his left hand firmly on his behind.

Pietro was almost too shocked to breathe for a moment. That feeling left as soon as Lance swatted him again.

"What the fuck are you doing to me, Lance? Let me go!" He started struggling as Lance continued to spank his jean-clad bottom.

"I'm punishing you, I just told you I was going to," Lance said as he tugged down Pietro's jeans and held his waist firmer.

"You can't _spank_ me, Lance! I'm too old and you just can't!" Pietro cried as he felt his jeans being downed, cursing himself for going commando.

"The hell I can't." Lance started swatting him harder, turning his bottom a bright pinkish color. Pietro tried to run, wanting to get away from the stinging blows, but Lance lifted him off the ground just enough that his feet couldn't reach the floor.

"Lance!" Pietro cried, kicking his legs until the were just a blur. "Stop it! It hurts!"

Lance continued spanking him, shifting him a bit so he could smack his sit spots easier. "It's supposed to hurt," Lance said logically as he started smacking the same spot over and over, then doing the same thing on the other cheek.

Pietro broke down and started crying, not kicking his legs anymore. He couldn't believe how much the spanking hurt. This was a little kid's punishment and he was embarrassed to be sobbing from it like he was. Pietro Maximoff does _not_ cry!

"I'm sorry Lance! I really am! Please stop," he cried out. "I'll never steal from you again! I promise I won't!"

Lance didn't answer him, just continued on giving him firm smacks until his behind was bright red. When he was satisfied that Pietro had been sufficiently punished, he set him on his feet and pulled him into a hug. Pietro gratefully buried his face in Lance's chest and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"I'm really sorry, Lance," he whimpered into his t-shirt. "I won't ever steal from you again, I promise."

"I hope not." Lance rubbed his back and held him tight, then planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Now, you and I need to go down to the salvation army."

"I thought they kicked us out of there after what Toad and I did to that guy behind us in line," Pietro said in confusion as he pulled his jeans back up. He gasped when the rough material brushed against his punished behind and groaned when they continued to cup his bottom harshly. Tight pants were certainly not the bottoms to wear after someone spanked you.

"You're not going in with me, but I want you to come with me so I can keep an eye on you," Lance said as he wiped away the tears on Pietro's cheeks. "You're most definitely going to find some kind of trouble to get yourself into if I leave you alone."

Pietro pouted but let Lance lead him out the door.

**AN/ Yes, I know I'm supposed to be working on YNA rather than spanky oneshots… But it was a request! A celebratory request! I even illustrated it: http:/ i-am-zandra. deviantart. com/#/d37dxqa just take out the spaces. ;)**


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